


Lay Me Down

by pherryt



Series: Cosmic Forces [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda for 13.04, Genderless Character, Sleep, cosmic energies, mentions of amara chuck and castiel, nothingness and void, they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 09:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12627783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: What's a cosmic entitiy got to do to get some sleep around here?





	Lay Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> 13.04 was really good right?
> 
> it's been screaming at me to write a CODA and this came out. I had some issues with the genderless pronouns, but i hope it's not too confusing. [ Dragonwithatale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonwithatale) took a look at them for me (thank you!)

There was nothing.

And then there was something.

They had felt this before and it had irked them then too.

There had been four of them, once. Four growing awarenesses, stretching out into the nothingness, the void, touching each other’s consciousness and learning how to play with the boundless energy there.

They’d hated the noise and the light just the same as they did now.

Not the way Amara had, of course. They had no urge to tear down the manifestations of their brother like she did. They just wished to be left alone, while she simply didn’t want to be left behind. It had warped her, somewhat. Causing her to take a different shape and to become a little bit of each of them. She had the same ability to create that God had, though not the same ingenuity. She had the same ability to cause destruction that Death had, though not the restraint that Death so effortlessly carried. And she touted to want the same nothingness that they wanted, but that wasn’t true.

She wanted _something_. Amara liked being awake, but didn’t like being alone.

That was something they would never understand. To them, consciousness was a burden they didn’t want. And being alone was a dream they yearned to fulfill. Not that they hated their brothers and sister. But the presence of their siblings was painful to them.

One by one, their brothers and sister left them alone in the nothingness, content to sleep.

Every so often, something woke them.

They woke when Amara destroyed the first of God’s universes. It had been a painful thing to witness, to feel. When the energies flooded back into the nothingness it was overwhelming. They did their best to absorb it all and lessen the noise and light but it _hurt._

And it didn’t stop.

God made things and Amara broke them. Death merely watched, standing by as a witness, taking no sides in such petty squabbles. It was an unending cycle. They woke every time she did it. But God didn’t stop creating. All they wanted was to go back into their dreamless sleep. They begged their brother and sister to stop fighting.

Sleep.

Wake.

Pain flooding them, again and again until finally, it was over.

Finally, they had peace and longed-for solitude.

Amara was locked away. God was off playing with his new world and Death had gone out for a stroll, marking the boundaries between the realms. This for the living, this for the dead, that one for those in between.

And the empty was left for those made of star stuff – those cosmic forces that could not be contained anywhere else safely. The beings that God had first created before learning to build on a smaller scale. But the nothing could hold them safely, away from those who would try to tap their power, and they would sleep. Painless and peaceful. It was a gift that only they could give.

And they slept. Time was meaningless in the emptiness. Angels came and joined them in their slumber and time passed unmarked and unknowing.

The first hello ripped them from sleep.

The first word they’d heard spoken of since…they knew not when and didn’t care. The second hello sent painful shivers through their mind. The third and fourth and hundredth – did this angel not know when _to give_ _up? –_ made sleeping impossible, painful even. Each word, each step was a spike of pain they had not felt since their siblings fought each other.

Each hello sent ripples through the nothingness they had always taken solace in, and other angels began to wake up. The noise was deafening as they did, their minds yelling loudly.

Somehow, it had to stop.

They _needed_ it all to stop!

They had no body. They had never needed nor wanted one. Even when Amara and Chuck and Death had shaped themselves a vessel, a likeness, they had remained as they had been from the beginning. Formless, genderless and content to stay that way.

Their siblings had not understood their desire to remain as they were, to remain alone in the quiet, but everything had its place and their own place was here. They didn’t even need to wake to have purpose. They granted asylum to the toys of their brother but slept on.

Now they shaped themself a corporeal form. Since they had none of their own, nor desires or preferences, nor notions of what they should like – they didn’t care – they just borrowed the one that was awake. They had to. There was no other way to communicate without driving the other mad and there would be no sleeping then. So, for the first time, they took form and became something. Their skin crawled with how unnatural and heavy it caused them to feel. But it was a necessary evil.

They had to convince the angel to go back to sleep.

The conversation that ensued was painful and frustrating.

But in the end, they did the only thing they could – they got rid of the annoying gnat that disturbed their slumber. It was obvious this Castiel was too stubborn, too single minded. Even walking through the tulips of this odd angels’ mind, they had realized this was a losing battle.

There would be no winning.

And if there was no winning, the pain would not stop and there would be no sleep.

So despite the one thing Death and God had asked of them, they kicked the angel out of the nothing and back into the world they longed for so much. Past that, they had no care of whether or not Castiel succeeded in whatever he was so dead set on doing – was love really something worth all that trouble? Somehow, they didn’t think so – just so long as the angel was no longer bothering them.

Finally, there was peace. The incessant painful sting of light and chatter radiating through the void had stopped.

No…

No, wait…

What was….

It couldn’t be…

The pain flared and, still enshrouded in the body of the angel, they fell to their knees and clutched their head with a snarling cry.

Why were the angels waking up?

What had Castiel _done_ to their realm of nothing? Was the sleep they so deeply craved to be something that eluded them for the rest of eternity?

NO!

They wouldn’t let that happen!

If the angels wouldn’t go back to sleep, then God would just have to deal with it himself. After all, the angels were God’s creations. They’d only been doing their brother a favor by taking them in after their deaths. They hadn’t minded, at first. They had nothing to do with it. They left a way in and everything happened automatically. No effort needed.

When an angel died, they transcended to nothingness and slept and much sought-after peace reigned.

Only now they didn’t.

 **Now** it was pure cacophony.

“Why won’t any of you sleep?” they shouted, fists clenched, teeth gritted. The noise only increased, the chatter becoming deafening, the volume pushing them to the ground – what ground? There was no ground in the empty. The only ground there’d been was that temporary facsimile the angel Castiel had conjured simply because – even as a being made of wavelengths and intent –he believed there should be a ground. The belief so powerful, so ingrained that the angel had done what no other being had done since the four of them first grew aware.

It had created something out of nothing.

The nothing was formless void and starstuff – it was cosmic energy without purpose. A strong enough mind could shape it. That was how God had got his start but God wasn’t here and they didn’t want ground so why was their ground? An angel should never have been so strong as to affect _their_ realm this way.

There was ground under them now. Light blooming around them. Colors bleeding in while sounds raised in pitch and volume.

They whimpered, a ball of flesh that they had forgotten to shed, as one by one, angels began to stand up and surround them.

One touched their head with a murmur. They forced themselves to raise their head and squint painfully up at the being stood before them and only then did they realize they wasn’t only angels that had come to sleep there. That it wasn’t only angels that had woken up.

Death stared down at them in pity and gentleness.

“Still too much, is it?” Death’s hand carded through the hair of the shell they had copied as he hummed out his question and the pain lessened. “We shall depart. I well know the way and I will lead our brothers’ creations home. You shall have peace again. I can’t promise some of them might not come back, but they will not wake again so easily, I promise. That Castiel was _always_ a stubborn one. Well a match for that Dean.”

Their borrowed eyes fell closed heavily, the pain receding, the noises drifting off, the light fading as the angels left, one by one.

Death whispered the last words they heard and they made a soundless sigh as they passed into blissful unawareness once more.

“Sleep well.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think? I wasn't sure if this wasn't a mess but i had this idea of what the big empty was and i wanted to write it. thanks :D


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